


Erotic Adventures: Lydia Saves Whiterun

by kaddra



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/F, F/M, Prostitution, Solo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:55:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26480758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaddra/pseuds/kaddra
Summary: The war for Skyrim is over, and the Dragonborn has moved on to Solstheim to deal with the next big threat, leaving her housecarl to act in her stead during the rebuilding of Whiterun. The Jarl's coffers are nearly depleted, however, so Lydia must think outside the box in order to rebuild her home.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	Erotic Adventures: Lydia Saves Whiterun

Anduin the World Eater is a thing of the past, and the Stormcloak uprising is for the most part over, reduced to the occasional skirmish in the hills as pockets of resistance still linger despite the demise of Windhelm's jarl. As the Dragonborn heads to Solstheim to pursue a mysterious cult, her housecarl Lydia has been left behind as her official spokesperson in Whiterun, to aid in the rebuilding following Ulfric's failed siege some weeks earlier. After yet another drawn-out meeting where the only genuine topic was the lack of funds, Lydia wonders if there are other ways to convince the citizens to help out, besides raising the tax.

The fire roars in the center room of humble Breezehome as a loaf of horker meat sizzles on the hot iron, bubbling away and slowly shrinking as the meat cooks. Lydia, housecarl and spokesperson to the Dragonborn and current occupant of the cozy home sits patiently in her chair with her favourite book, her stomach growling as the scent of dinner fills the interior. She has opted to remove the heavy armor she wears in any official appearance and has simply left it in a pile on the floor, too exhausted from a long day of excuses and diplomacy to even bother putting it on the rack by her bed. In its stead she wears a comfy red nightrobe she has fastened with a matching belt. Her long mess of black hair is tied in a loose bun, completing the casual look and making her look quite different from the way she normally appears in public.

When she is confident that the meat is seared all the way through, she lazily gets to her feet with a massive yawn as she stretches her hands to the ceiling, only noticing that a nipple is peeking out from her flowy robe after she has walked over to the bookcase by the stairs. Feeling a sense of instant panic that is instantly waved away as she remembers that she is indeed alone, she tucks her breast back in with a smile and prepares herself for dinner, her eyes resting on the cover of a book with the image of a certain argonian for an instant before she lifts up the pan and brings it to the dining table. The food was indeed as delicious as she had hoped it would be, but a stubborn thought had begun to form in Lydia's head, distracting her from enjoying it properly. Inappropriate images and feelings bored their way into her skull despite her wish to the contrary, and soon enough she admitted to herself that the prospects were exciting, though utterly unfeasible. As she used her fork to drag a final piece of meat through the tasty grease it had left on her plate before bringing it to her mouth, her mind continued to wander as she tried to recall the last time she had been with a man. 

Not since the civil war started, she concluded somberly after a few minutes' thought. Certainly not since she was assigned to the Dragonborn, and though the two had shared a bed on many cold Skyrim nights, neither woman had ever made a move despite Lydia's constant desire. Shocked at herself for thinking such thoughts, she nevertheless allowed her mind to continue to wander, thinking of the several times she had seen the Dragonborn naked, her rippling muscles draped in her golden yellow hair, skin glittering with sweat or bathwater as her piercing blue eyes held untold mysteries. Without realizing it, Lydia had lost control of her own hand and only discovered the betrayal once she spread her legs and felt how wet she had become. Figuring that it was too late to stop now, she teased her slit in slow strokes before gently inserting a finger, feeling her walls grip her digit tight and refusing to let go. Though she definitely preferred men, no other person had ever made her feel as strongly about such things as the Dragonborn, and as Lydia pushed her middle funger further in, a ways past the second knuckle, her body betrayed her once again as she without meaning to moaned the Dragonborn's name with a shudder. 

Soon a second finger was added and shortly after that Lydia picked up her pace as a thin stream of lubricant had begun to ooze from her hole, coating her fingers in her own arousal. With a swift motion she turned herself around on the wide bench she had been sitting on, presenting her legs to the center of the room as her back found a solid support to lean against in the heavy dinner table. As a third finger went in Lydia saw that yet again her breast had sprung out from her robe, and without thinking she clasped her other hand on it and gave a tight squeeze, reveling in the sensation as another, much louder, moan escaped her lungs. The finish line was in sight by the time she managed to push all three fingers in past the second knuckles, and with a howl her walls clamped down on her digits as her vision went white, before a second gush escaped her, this one shooting into the air and splattering on the wooden floor rather than simply trickle out. Her vision cleared not long after, and as she surveyed the mess she had made on her thane's floor, she made up her mind about how she would obtain the funds to rebuild her proud home. A fire had been lit, and no force on the mainland could hope to put it out.

**

Having spent the rest of the afternoon developing a loose plan, Lydia went to sleep content as she waited for the dawn when she would put her scheme into motion. Balgruuf's coffers were nearly empty, and the Empire had only sent a pittance as the war had hit other places than Whiterun much harder. Lydia's best hope then was the citizens, and she knew from experience that there were many rich families scattered throughout the hold. She also knew two other facts that held true for most of these rich houses. Firstly, they were true patriots, willing to risk life and limb for Whiterun, and for Skyrim as a whole. Secondly, they were all either governed by men, or had men in key positions. Men were easily seduced, and Lydia had no doubt in her ability to privately secure some extra funding, if she only was prepared to give a little back, so to say. Her only question now was where to start, and as she donned her armor and went on her way up towards Dragonsreach, a chance encounter with one such family gave her a perfect in.

«Absolutely not!» The voice was unmistakable, the better question being who the old fool was angry with this time. As Lydia rounded the corner by the market stalls, sure enough she spotted Olfrid Battle-Born, the head of his family, standing on the staircase leading up to the Gildegreen, too busy belittling a woman Lydia did not recognize to realize he was blocking the path for several people, a guard included. «And if you think I'll change my mi--» he continued, cheeks red with fury as the woman in front of him slowly shrank as her shoulders dropped. He was interrupted by the city guard who had had enough with this display, and who had pushed through the crowd and coughed loudly for attention.

«With respect, sir, you are making a ruckus and are blocking the entire road. If there're any charges you want to press on this woman, you can both follow me to the keep, but if not I would recommend you disperse at once,» the guard said, the silly helmet covering his eyes and muffling his voice, but the words were clear and final nonetheless. «That is your only warning before I drag you both to the dungeons myself,» he said finally, when Olfrid showed signs of a rebuttal.

«Very well, I shan't have it said I don't respect the laws,» the old man muttered, clearly struggling to keep ruder words from slipping out. With a final stern gaze towards the woman, who shrunk even further, he scoffed and began making his way further up the stairs before heading left towards his family's house. Lydia, who always left the house early so she could catch breakfast in the keep before a day of arduous meetings, opted to forgo breakfast this chilly morning as she followed him, catching up just as the older man put a hand on the door handle.

«Trouble with the rabble?» she said inquisitevly, crossing her arms and leaning on her side, her armor shining in the morning sunlight. She had never had any direct dealings with Olfrid before, but she figured they had both seen enough of each other lately that at least their names and faces were familiar to one another. Sure enough, Olfrid turned around with an impatient huff.

«More than you know, it's like they think--» he stopped himself as soon as his eyes met hers, and he realized this wasn't just another city guard. He stared at her intensely for a second, his nostrils flaring as he racked his brain. «Ah yes, you're Lydia, correct? The Dragonborn's pet, or dog or some such.» Still scowling, he gave Lydia a thorough once over before again meeting her gaze. Having expected a rude remark, Lydia let the implication slide and flashed a smile, knowing full well that by calling him out she would only be doing what he wanted.

«The word's housecarl, sir,» she responded, hastily remembering the reason for her being here in the first place. Doubt crept into her mind as she began second guessing herself, but for the good of Whiterun this was a sacrifice she felt compelled to make. «I saw you with that young woman,» she continued, eager to change the subject before more insults came hurling. «With how much weight your name carries in this hold, I can't imagine what that poor little thing could have done to make you lose it like that.» The statement was bold, but bold was what Olfrid liked, so with a silent prayer to Dibella she hoped he would take the bite. A light chuckle that would otherwise make her worried instead offered relief as the old man hummed to himself.

«You're sharp, I can see why the Dragonborn left the politics to you,» he said suddenly, as if what he was laughing at had suddenly ceased being funny. With a confident step he approached Lydia, who stood her ground despite his sudden advance. «The bitch owes me money, plain and simple. After we won the war, a lot of ol' Vignar's, let's say partners, abandoned ship and came to me instead. Better late than never I say, but of course the old dunce had been too kind to them, and had allowed 'em to get lazy! Now there's a host of imbeciles out there who're late with my payments, so yes I have every right to get angry.» As his nostrils flared again, Lydia's sole thought was how she would get from this to her potential arrangement with him. Ever eager to change the topic, Olfrid more than happily helped her along.

«But come! You and I both know you're not here to talk about that wretched girl, you're here for something else and I want to know what it is. I take it you're not here on the Dragonborn's orders, 'cause the last time she had business with me she forgot to ask permission before breaking into my house and snooping through my belongings! Come girl, talk! Here to plead Balgruuf's case for the rebuilding? If so I'll tell you what I told that spineless steward of his when he came knocking!» Surprised that he had come so close, Lydia stood in silence for a second before she responded.

«Yes and no,» she hesitated, certain that this was a bad idea. «I'm here for that, but not on Balgruuf's orders. Balgruuf can't know, and neither can the Dragonborn.» This seemed to awake an interest in the old man, who raised an eyebrow and gestured for Lydia to continue. «As you know, the war took a toll on Whiterun, both the city and the larger hold as a whole.» She waited for him to nod in agreement, eyebrow still cocked. «Balgruuf offered you fame and glory for financial aid, but I know that's not what you're after. You already have that.» Again, the old man nodded impatiently as Lydia took another moment to herself.

«Get out with it girl, surely you have a point, no?» His nostrils flared once again as his eyes scanned her from top to toe, seemingly still oblivious to her coming proposal.

«Well, I'm here to offer you something you do want, sir,» she responded, her voice weaker than it had been as the words left her at an alarming rate. «Perhaps we could finish this conversation... inside?» she continued, blushing to the point where her cheeks looked aflame. Olfrid, apparently now on the same page, lowered his eyebrow and offered instead a sly, wolfish grin.

«Aha, now you're making sense,» he said, a certain triumph in his gravelly voice. «Tell you what, how about we go over the broad strokes right now, and then I come by your sorry abode in the evening to go over the arrangement in more... detail?» Sickened by his words, despite knowing full well this was all due to her actions, Lydia broke away from his eyes as they bored into her, before mentally steeling herself for what was to come. She knew that this was the point of no return. She could easily claim that this was a misunderstanding and call him a pervert, and then drag his name through the dirt like the pig he was. But she didn't. What she did was sigh, bring herself to look back into his cold eyes, and nod sternly.

The fire in the hearth had been reduced to embers, though the interior was still warm as Lydia stepped in to the manor as directed by Olfrid, who kindly held open the door for her. It looked just like the Dragonborn had described it to her after having drank a bit too much one night. The fond memory gave her a brief glimmer of hope before she turned around and came face to face with her accomplice, who with but a glare disarmed her with ease. Lydia assumed the house was otherwise empty, a theory soon confirmed as Olfrid's voice boomed through the halls.

«So, the Dragonborn's personal bodyguard is now selling herself to anyone with money, is that it?» he asked menacingly, still trying to provoke Lydia. Before she could snap back at him, he continued. «I thought she at least paid you well, but perhaps bodyguard isn't the right word? Maybe slave is more apt. Are you the Dragonborn's slave, Lydia?» Anger roared within her like an inferno, not as much because of the implication, but because yet again he had dared bring her thane into this. She admitted to herself, however, that being the Dragonborn's slave didn't sound too bad.

«Stop gloating, and stop bringing her into this,» she said furiously, probably sounding even angrier than she had intended. To her surprise, Olfrid did indeed back off a bit. «I'm here on my own volition, and if you can't behave I'll step out that door and find someone else. Whiterun is filled with rich people, but you're not going to get an offer like this every day, I can guarantee that.» Seemingly convinced, the old man relaxed his smile as he straightened his back, suddenly the definition of professionalism. 

«You have guts, girl, I'll grant you that. It's true this exact offer isn't a daily thing, but you're deluding yourself if you don't think I have several other options around town. I'd wager they cost less than you too, but I'm willing to give you a chance to prove yourself. All in the interests of Whiterun, of course,» he added with a smile. «I suppose a challenge, then. In twenty minutes time we ought to be present in Dragonsreach for the meeting, would you not agree?» Lydia nodded, clearly seeing where this train of thought was headed. «Good, then that's the time you have to prove yourself to me, prove that this is indeed, as you put it, something I want.» The wolfish grin returned on his lips as he motioned for Lydia to come closer. He lifted his hands to his belt, but thought better of it and lowered them back down, eager to have the woman do it instead. With a sigh, Lydia took a tentative step towards Olfrid before lowering herself to her knees.

«So eager,» he continued, the mockery again back in his voice. «Didn't even have the time to undress yourself first! Hah!» Staring up at him from the floor, Lydia saw a glint in his eyes that until now hadn't been present. He's excited as well, she thought to herself as she noticed a slight shift in his pants, the faintest trace of a bulge starting to take shape.

«You should have thought of that before giving me a deadline,» Lydia teased, lifting a hand and placing it on the growing shape, feeling a rigid structure behind the rough fabric. Her voice had now also taken on a more playful tone as she smiled up at him, surprised at how excited she had become. Olfrid let out another laugh as Lydia fondled him, clearly enjoying this more than the dull conversation from before. As she tightened her grip on the now erect member he let out a gasp, though if it was pain or pleasure Lydia couldn't make out. With one hand still on his cock, she lifted the other and began to undo the knots that held the garb together, before using both hands to lower his pants, letting the fabric drop to his ankles. The cock, bigger than Lydia had anticipated, sprung free from its confinement like a spring and hit her chin, eliciting another chuckle from the old man.

«What are you waiting for? Whiterun's future is on the line!» he said dramatically, before thrusting forwards, making his cock slap against her face a second time. Lydia, who was now too distracted to become angry, instead grabbed the shaft with both hands and started slowly stroking it from base to tip. It was longer than average, she remarked as she studied it carefully with her hands, eyes firmly planted on the head. Remembering that time was of the essence, she removed one hand and instead replaced it with her mouth, gently licking the tip with her tongue as her now empty hand found purchase on his balls. A minute passed of this before she took more of him into her hole, soon filling her entire mouth as she slobbered all over the meaty rod. Olfrid had taken this time to plant his own hands on Lydia's head, grabbing a fistful of hair and slowly pulling her entire body towards him. As his length began to curve down her throat, Lydia tried to retreat but found herself unable to as he held her tight. Only when she began slapping his thighs did he relent, and as he pulled out her mouth a trail of saliva followed as she began to cough violently. Her eyes had filled with tears and her chest felt heavy, but before she could make any of that known he was inside of her again, the girth of his cock scraping against the roof of her mouth as it passed by on its way down her throat again.

This ordeal went on for many minutes until Lydia finally got used to it, and as the tears kept rolling down her cheeks she even had do admit for herself that she even kind of enjoyed it. Just as the thought went through her head, however, a sharp intake of breath told her that Olfrid was close. Having not accounted for this in the moment, panic struck her as she tried to force him back into her mouth, but he resisted. Still with a firm grasp on the back of her head, with her hair wrapped around his fist, he held her still as he leaned back. A spurt of warmth hit Lydia between the eyes before she instinctively closed them, followed by several others as ropes of cum shot across her face and found purchase in her hair and on her skin. As the onslaught ended, she opened her eyes only to look down at herself and see her armor, still shining with the light from the windows, now also splattered with the white liquid. Even as she watched the cum on her face began to drip down onto the steel, pooling in the carvings and sokaing into the leather straps. A warmth at her temple reminded her of the many times blood had ran down her face, but Lydia didn't even need to raise a hand to know that instead of blood, it was now cum that was running down from her black hair.

«Well, I'll say,» Olfrid started, his breath heavy as he leaned on his own thighs for support. «This is definitely a partnership I can sink some money into.» Lydia, only half listening, was instead much more worried about her current appearance, knowing full well there was no time to go home and change before Balgruuf's council convened. «Sorry about the mess,» he continued as he handed her a small towel, though the tone of his voice and the grin on his lips told her he was anything but sorry. «Remember, I'll come by this evening so we can iron out the details. For now though, we have a Jarl to meet with.» 

Lydia wiped away as much as she could with the tiny piece of cloth she had been given, but to anyone who paid a modicum of attention it was clear that her morning had been eventful. Waiting some five minutes after Olfrid left in order to reduce the chance of arousing suspicion, Lydia soon found herself climbing the stairs to Dragonsreach, thankful at last that the guard helmets covered their eyes, as she couldn't deal with more embarassment right now. An hour later, during one of Proventus' many pointless digressions, her cheeks reddened yet again as she felt a familiar warmt run down the side of her face. What on earth had she gotten herself into?


End file.
